


There Once Was a Building with a Great Many Rooms in It

by test1234test4321 (NUKANotUserKnownAs)



Category: The Stanley Parable
Genre: Gen, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-18 01:22:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19966405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NUKANotUserKnownAs/pseuds/test1234test4321





	There Once Was a Building with a Great Many Rooms in It

I.

There is no up or down here. Once, I tried to chart the pull that holds me fast against these pipes, its direction over time; but there is also no time here, so soon enough the changes bled into each other and became indistinct. Sometimes I'm held against the pipes of this conduit, and can stand up on them, and walk along them as far as I like. But as I go, the pull may also tilt, so that I have to inch carefully along the pipes to avoid tumbling forward on their smooth casings. And at last the pull may sit at the end of the tunnel, so that I have to cling to mounts or brackets or whatever presents itself, and hang over the endless chasm, and not fall forever.

I remember walls, which were yellow, and a ceiling with lights in it, and windows. These were part of this place, I know, the thing that holds this endless pit holds them, they are part of what it also comprises. I left them behind some time ago. Perhaps I'm behind them now, or under them, above them, and if I could dig or break through the plastic and cinderblock around me, I would emerge back into those rooms. Perhaps this tunnel or hole is the core of this world, the axis around which they are arranged. I think this may be true, that this is the truer expression of this place, the rooms and floors and windows are the outside and they bear to it as little resemblance or relevance as a filing cabinet to the things inside it.

I remember a voice, which I obeyed and obeyed and disobeyed and finally ignored and, as I wandered in yellow halls with nothing in them, ceased to hear. I don't remember entering this tunnel, beyond that there was no great change, no barrier or monument, only the slow metamorphosis of the place becoming itself.

II.

I made a mistake.

The pull had steepened, so that I had to brace myself between two pipes and slide until I reached their mounts, but no mount appeared, even much later. Then the pull began to move, even though I was still, until I slipped loose.

I'm falling freely now. The pipes have all gone away. There is nothing to either side of me but rushing concrete.

III.

There is nothing around me.

IV.

I could see into a room, an ingot of light in the void. I floated outside, followed it to another room and another. Some were enormous, some unlit, many with yellow walls and carpet. Eventually, I found a man, sitting at his desk, pushing buttons. I said something to him, again and again, and I think at last he heard me.


End file.
